Poems and a celebration of trees by John Morey
I am the spirit of the woods
Living within their midst
(Sometimes within their mist,
But then I'm really silent.)
Those who value me most
Know me as 'the woods':
A collection of trees to delight
Even the most un-impressionable
When the mood takes me.
Or them.
But never so powerfully
As to overwhelm - like my cousin,
The forest.
Unlike that greater spirit
I spare comfort for smaller clan,
Such as badgers, foxes,
Birds of most feather
And, if I am lucky, deer.
(I do like deer!)
But let us not forget those who live
With - and for - those creatures:
The humble insect and smaller mammal.
Of course there is another presence
Known only by touch and sound
But never by sight.
The wind.
Some say he is the spirit of the woods,
Altering the state of mind of all who enter.
But he cannot achieve that on his own.
He borrows from his friends, the trees,
Using their leaves in a variety of ways
As instruments.
A breeze creates an almost inaudible rustle;
The merest dapple of light filtering through.
On another day that may turn to rage,
Its strength so great
As to shred the poor messenger -
The same leaves.
As the woods I can be viewed
From within or afar.
Affecting senses more than words.
Within, I can be your home, your playground,
Your moment of peace. Your livelihood.
From without and afar I do but enhance
All that surrounds me,
Offering a welcome destination
For those who wish to visit.
All I ask is that you keep me safe;
In turn, I will do my best for you.
I will provide all the above to enjoy.
But more than that, if you keep me well
Then I will deliver the very essence of life.
Take that as my promise. My vow to you.
But should I suffer by your actions
Then what might follow bears no imagining,
Lying beyond the control of any promise.
All this is rooted deep within my spirit;
The spirit of the woods.
The Spirit of the Woods image courtesy of
Unsplash and Andrew Kitchen
